Resach Trueshot
by Nage
Summary: Oldest story I've got. I created Res in 6th grade. Be nice.


******** My first Redwall fic! So be nice. I'm not sure if I like how this turned out. And NO, it's NOT the end. Resach and Sharaque aren't from this world. At all. Res, Shar, Drag, Miraun and Damion © me! The world, abbey and Mossflower woods © Brian Jacques.  
********  
  
Resach grinned fearsomely at her approaching enemies. Her shiny black green eyes darting back and forth, counting their numbers.  
  
Almost a score. she thought, with no real concern, No problem.  
  
The heavy canvas tied to her back reminded her of her responsibility. She could feel the beating of her friend's heart through the canvas she had wrapped him in.  
  
He'll be alright.  
  
The first of the Murk Clan, mostly weasels, charged forwards. The black ferret's javelin flickered out, driving them back. The weasels charge was not halted, and Resach felt their weapons blaze across her jet fur. She took a handful of knives from the dark green sash she had tied around her waist. One by one, she threw them into the ranks of her enemies.  
  
A tiny cry was emitted from the canvas she carried, "Res..." he whimpered.  
  
"Sharaque!" she cried, mingling his name with her war cry, "SHARAQAYYYYYYIEN!"  
  
The soft round ears of the Redwall warrior perked up, "Did you hear that Miraun?" asked Dragos.  
  
"I heard nothing, Drag. But your mousey little ears are sharper than mine." replied the sea otter, shrugging her shoulders, "Perhaps you heard something."  
  
"Sounded like a scream. Somebeast fighting."  
  
Miraun shrugged again, her habit, "We'll check it out if you want."  
  
"SHARAQAYYYYYYIIIEN!!" Resach bellowed, her voice taking a hoarse, sharp edge.  
  
She was badly hurt, and the weasels seemed endless in numbers. Though it might be that she was seeing double.  
  
In truth, there were four weasels left, but she was having difficulty telling them apart.  
  
She lashed out with her javelin, her enemies slowly becoming less numerous, her efforts dying. She felt Sharaque twitch in pain and her anger flared up. The black ferret renewed her attacks on her foes.  
  
"AIIIIIYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYIIIIIIIIIEN!"  
  
"There it is again! Can't you hear it?"  
  
"I hear it now Drag! Let's go!"  
  
The pair dashed through the trees and emerged in a clearing. The corpses of weasels littered the ground where a single ferret stood, tottering clumsily, barely able to stand. Her eyes were misted red with rage, and a canvas sheet was tied, folded to her back. She gripped a broken javelin in her ebony paws and her fangs were bared in defiance. She swatted the air around her with her weapon, fighting an imagined battle.  
  
"Sharayyyyyien..." she gasped, panting heavily.  
  
Dragos approached her cautiously, "Are you alright?"  
  
"Dragos! She's a ferret!" snapped Miraun.  
  
Drag nodded, "The abbot always says that we treat injured vermin as well as any other woodlander. We'll help her. And she just killed these weasels, you never know if she's a traitor to them."  
  
Miraun protested, "She could just as easily turn traitor on us."  
  
"Abbot Damion would lecture the both of us if we refused to help her." laughed the young warrior.  
  
The ferret collapsed, falling onto her belly, and curling protectively around the canvas. When Drag offered her his paw, she hissed at him and shielded the canvas. A white tail tumbled out of the canvas.  
  
"There's another beast in the canvas!" exclaimed Miraun.  
  
Drag knelt beside the wild ferret, at a respectful distance, "Yes, another ferret, white fur. Looks like he's got a broken limb."  
  
The black ferret took a few ragged breaths before speaking, "Will you... help?" she asked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
She pushed the canvas sheet towards them, "Take my friend. Help.... help him. Broken leg, cut... shoulder."  
  
"We'll help both of you."  
  
"Take care of him first." she gasped, closing her dark eyes.  
  
"Miraun, can you carry the white ferret? You're taller than me, and he seems to be the larger of the two." explained Drag.  
  
The sea otter nodded and picked up the ferret wrapped in canvas.  
  
"I'll start walking. He needs to get to the infirmary." she said.  
  
"Right behind you." he called, helping the wounded black ferret stand.  
  
She grinned notched fangs at him and he felt a surge of alarm, but she merely winked and growled huskily, "Thanks."  
  
Dragos nodded and they made their way to the abbey, Resach limping heavily  
  
****** What d'you think? ^_^ ****** 


End file.
